


I'm in trouble, Officer

by moonfox281



Series: 2017 Prompt [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crime boss!Jason, Gun Violence, M/M, No Batfam, No Batman, Officer!Dick, Still have Red Hood, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 08:13:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11963328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonfox281/pseuds/moonfox281
Summary: It only took him two seconds to grab the nearest object and fling it towards Red Hood. The guy caught it, as expected, Dick slammed into him, knocking him down to the floor with his body and fumbled behind his back for the handcuffs.“Woah, easy tiger. Not right on the first date.” He still had guts to joke around, lips pulling into a wide grin and showing white teeth while Dick pressed on his back and pulled his wrists together.It was annoying to admit this wasn’t the first time a criminal tried to flirt with him.-----------------------------------***----------------------------------------After saving the infamous criminal Red Hood from the hand of Death, Officer Grayson found himself in trouble for the consequence of it.





	I'm in trouble, Officer

**Author's Note:**

> Whoever asked for this prompt must haven't thought it would be this long.

 

 

It was Sunday morning, long, cold winds and empty avenues. It was October, but Gotham did have her way with the weather, flipping the hands and bringing winter to her town sooner than usual. Today was his day off, a perfect occasion to snuggle deep down in the layers of heavy blankets and sleep till noon, or simply do an old time movie marathon that his shifts had taken his time from watching. But, of course, it was also a perfect time for Bruce to find and call him back to Gotham.

 

Wayne Manor still looked the same. Ancient, big, exorbitant, and cold. Cold even with all the memories of running down the endless halls, of swinging between chandeliers and sliding down the long handle of stairs. Dick still faintly remembered waking up at night, tugging the blanket onto his shoulder and walking through the number of old painting to get to Bruce’s chamber, to slide down against his door and just sleep like that. Born in a circus, to live in a huge mansion with just two people, it was fated that soon Dick would find his wings and fly away.

And he did.

 

“Ah, Master Dick. It’s been such a long time.” Alfred greeted him, still looking the same, but undeniably older. 7 years had worn him out, if not caused by Bruce’s stubbornness.

“It has.” Dick replied and watched the old man standing there eyeing him like he wanted to say something more. His wrinkled eyes flickered up and down his face, hunting for every change since their last encounter. Very much had changed indeed, for the 17 year old Dick Grayson must not look anything like him right now.

“You may find Master Bruce at the garden.” Alfred said, eventually, though his eyes were speaking louder than the voice that met Dick.

“Thank you, Alfie.”

 

It was awkward, and not how Dick imagined it would be. But 7 years was a long time, and to be honest, Dick didn’t plan to ever come back here again. Seeing Alfred brought back memories, good ones with cookies, delicious food, warm hugs and small talks in the kitchen. Alfred had made the Manor home when it felt nothing like it.

Dick wondered why he hadn’t come to visit sooner, but again, he remembered why.

 

Bruce looked exactly the same as the day Dick left him. Handsome face and cleanly shaven, fancy suit and Italian shoes. He looked like a billionaire from afar. Maybe they should make a movie or TV series about him just like this, sipping Earl Grey at the well set tea table while looking at the blue sky of his enormous garden.

 

“Dick.” He set his cup down, stood up, and straightened his suit, a small smile made it to his lips that made Dick sick. Bruce never smiled, not since Dick knew him.

“What do you want?” Dick asked and didn’t react when he saw Bruce pull out a chair for him.

Bruce’s smile slipped off his lips, his face hardened like someone had pulled the wrong string of it. Someone that was Dick.

“Can’t I just want to see you?”

“Don’t play around, Bruce. I know you, after all this time, you only call when you want something.” Like the first night after Dick had stormed out of this place, leaving for good and leaving everything behind, Bruce had called, and the phone had rung up all night, and the next morning.

For a big and important man, Bruce lived like a child, hurting and ignoring people and only wanting them back when he lost them.

Bruce stayed silent and just looked straight at him, face cold and emotionless. The same face Dick had learned to love, but also forced himself to hate.

“What do you want, Bruce.” He repeated. “I don’t have all day.”

Lie. He had all day, but he wanted Bruce to think he was a busy man, one that barely had time for his bullshit, not one that despite everything still came running all the way back from Bludhaven after just one short phone call.

 

Something shifted on the older man’s face, like another layer of cold, hard makeup to shield away his emotions that Dick could hardly ever see. But something had definitely changed in the way he looked at Dick, or the way his fingers lightly tapped a calming rhythm on the glass surface of the table. He took his time, long enough for Dick to start shifting his pose.

“The Red Hood case,” He started, and Dick couldn’t hold back a mocking huff from escaping his throat. Bruce waited for a few seconds before continuing. “He was originally from Gotham, but decided to make a move to Bludhaven. The GCPD don’t have access to any file related to him. Gordon said he has already bought half of the department. It was already hard enough to keep an eye on him when he was in range,”

“And now that he’s in the Blud, things got out of his hands.”

Bruce nodded and handed him a paper envelope. It was surprisingly thin for an A-class criminal case.

“There isn’t much. The Red Hood is good at what he does. He built up a kingdom of his own from the Black Mask scraps. But Bludhaven is new grounds, connections needs to be made, words will be slipped around and that is what I hope we’ll start at.”   

“I.” Dick corrected.

“I’m sorry?”

“That is what _I’ll_ start at. This case belongs to the BPD now, and most of the guys there have already started working for the Red Hood. That’s why you contacted me, because you know I’m clean, I’m trustworthy, and I’m on my own.”

“You’re not on your own−”

“Right, Gordon may be able to pick something up for me. But I doubt he’s gonna be much help, this helmet guy has been running around Gotham for almost 2 years and no one can do anything about it.”

“We’re doing our best.”

“We? I see you still go around with him.” Gordon was a good man, a really good man, one that made Dick doubt why he could be around Bruce for this long.

“I owe that man everything. And Gotham is my city too.”

“A city where you pay too much attention to the profit and not enough to the low life streets. If you had, you would have recognized that crime levels have gone down a significant amount since Red Hood took control of the underworld.”

Bruce’s face didn’t move an inch but his shoulders tightened like an invisible weight had been set on them.

“Are you taking his side?”

Dick huffed.

“I’m a police officer, Bruce. And apparently, one of the only clean ones left. I’m not taking anyone’s side aside from justice. I’m just stating facts.”

“He’s a dangerous man.”

“And wouldn’t I know that.”

 

A dangerous man that 2 weeks ago had kissed Dick out of the blue and drugged him right off. A dangerous man that looked so young, like he might be around Dick’s age. Yet, he carried guns and weapons around like they were just some plastic toys, lead a whole gang of criminals dealing drugs and selling illegal weapons like it was just some poker game.

This world just kept getting weirder and weirder every day. 

 

He turned and was about to leave when Bruce called, voice yearning and maybe desperate too if Dick could let himself be a little paranoid.

“You can stay for lunch.”

And Dick knew this was his attempt at a peace offering, a detente for the cold war that had been set between them for 7 long years. Dick knew today’s meeting was just an excuse so he could agree to see Bruce’s face. Bruce was doing Gordon a favor and all of this would have been simpler if he had given the commissioner his number. But no, Bruce had chosen a face-to-face meeting.

It was soothing, knowing he tried. Still, 7 years was just enough for wounds to heal, not for scars to fade.

“I can. But I won’t.”

 

And he left, just like that, despite wanting to stay so badly. Because if for once Bruce could feel the torment of this, then the pain would be worth it.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

When he came home, the first thing he did after kicking off his shoes was dig through the kitchen cupboard for something dry to eat. The drive wore him out, but seeing Bruce drenched him the most. He shouldn’t have gone there, but again, the envelope that was resting on his countertop now could be worth a year of investigating.

He pulled out the chair and started pouring milk into the bowl for the box of Cocoa Pebbles because it was the fastest thing he could grab that wasn’t spices. He pulled the string and opened the envelope, dumping all the papers down on the island’s wooden surface. Pictures, files and a flash drive fell out, about a third of them were blacked out. Name unknown, age unknown, nationality unknown, no profile picture, height somewhere above average, alias Red Hood, wanted for loan sharking, gambling, drug trafficking, producing illegal weapons, committing arson, bribing legal forces, terrorism, assault with a deadly weapon, etcetera, etcetera. The list just went on and on and by the end of it, he was 110% sure that Red Hood had made it onto the FBI, CIA, NSA, DEA, and Interpol blacklist. It was shown that Red Hood was actually the cause of Gotham’s Kingpin Black Mask’s criminal confession, and the death of 12 other crime bosses. The file also included that a duffle bag full of heads of these crime lords had been sent to the GCPD’s doorstep 2 days before Black Mask’s headquarters had been blown up. The killing of the infamous psychopath Joker seemed more or less a part of Red Hood’s plan too when the ambulance that was carrying him had been bombed in the same month.

The pictures that were included in the envelope were of left-over scenes and few of the Red Hood’s gang tattoo. Dick went into his bedroom with the spoon still in his mouth to take his laptop out and back to the kitchen island, plugging the flash drive in. It didn’t take long for the items to transfer, when he opened the disk, various clips appeared. He skimmed through all of it, most were from police body cameras, the rest where scraps from the news and surveillance tapes that were retrieved as evidence.   

Bruce was right, there wasn’t much, and all of this didn’t give any help to him at all. Dick himself might even get a better chance with the blood sample and prints he got from his last encounter with the Red Hood. He had run tests at the state’s lab, nothing came up, he had even given Diana some samples to give it a run in the AFIS database. Still, nothing came up, it was like the man didn’t exist at all.     

 

A thudding sound got Dick to stop his chewing and look behind his back. His eyes skimmed through the place and nothing seemed to be out of place or unusual, but something had his guts twisted, or maybe he was just too tired from driving around today. Maybe it was his neighbor’s cat again, the fluff ball kept inviting himself into his apartment when he felt like it, wandering around his feet till he surrendered and picked it up even in his busiest moments. Looking back at the clock, it was 6:30 already, the sun had gone down and the lights had turned up when he was still busy digging his nose through the files. Time flew when you needed it the most.

 

Dick got up to stretch his back and suddenly yearned for a shower. He went to turn on the heater, grabbed a hoodie and sweats then went right into the shower room. He thought about Bruce when the water hit him, thought about the way he had looked at him when Dick declined his lunch invitation, thought about the alternative scene where he had said yes and stayed. He remembered Alfred too, the look on his old face when he bid his goodbye and the way he kept staring at him when Dick walked to his Prius on the front yard. He hated that he had broken the butler’s heart, hated that by punishing Bruce, he had also pulled the old man into this torturous game of theirs.

His head ached for relief, for a short break that it hadn’t gotten for what felt like forever. This case was draining him, but again, every case that fell into his hands caused the same affect. Dick couldn’t bring himself to remember the last time Amy walked to his desk and didn’t complain about his health issues. His chest ached every time he blacked out at the desk and woke up with a cooling coffee cup next to his head. Maybe some of the guys in the department felt pity for him, for trying to change the way this world turned, for playing the hero when it was way out of his league.

Maybe he was indeed stupid, for running after a criminal case that even the Feds couldn’t handle.

 

He toweled his hair and walked back to the living room, head somehow both lighter and more crowded, like it was filled with kapok tucked tight in a fat pillow. Dick didn’t see him then, only after he called out.

 

“For a cop, your security is crap.” Red Hood was sitting right there at his kitchen counter, hand holding the Cocoa Pebbles box, setting it down as if he had taken a look at it just a few seconds ago.

“Don’t tell me that’s your dinner.”

 

Dick was still staring at him, heart stopping and mouth gaping. He must have looked like a dead fish, but in his defense, this dead fish was taken by surprise.

“I− it’s my lunch, actually.” He mumbled, still too blown out to actually phrase the sentence properly.

Red Hood huffed and when he stood up, Dick instantly took a step back, hand reaching for the back of his hip out of instinct, just to realize that no, normal people don’t carry gun when they’re fresh out of the shower, even cops. The next steps the guy took, Dick founded himself stumbling back against the wall, too defenseless to actually do something besides thinking of the quickest way to run. The moment there were only a few inches between them, Dick actually thought he was gonna die.

Red Hood still looked as big as he always did, hard muscle coiled up like a bull underneath the heavy armor, pouches stuck out like they might carry grenades in them… wait, maybe they did. Those cold digital eyes of his helmet felt like they could shoot Dick’s soul dead. He towered over him, like a giant bull shark smiling in front of a baby seal, making Dick’s breathing hitch to the point of nothingness.

When his gloved hand went up, Dick squeezed his eyes shut and started counting down the seconds he had left before he said goodbye to the 24 years he had lived in this life. He thought of the way he was going to be killed, either by that military knife the Red Hood tucked in one of his chest pouches, or one of the AKs he carried behind his back, or would he cut off his head like he had done with the crime bosses in Gotham?

No matter the weapon, Dick was 100% sure he was gonna die right here, right now when something solid touched his cheek. It was warmer than he thought for a gun barrel, a bit leathery if his mind still worked properly.

 

A moment passed and the touch spread to his temple, rubbing soothing circles with what Dick would bet with the dangling life of his was a thumb. A click sound came up, closer than he expected and rang right up to his ears. Dick slowly opened his eyes, and there it was the handsome face he would die before he forgot, up so close they might be inhaling each other’s breaths right now.

 

“You look good like this, Officer.” He said, voice rumbling so low and _close_ it raised the hair at the back of Dick’s neck.   

When he pulled away and walked back to the kitchen island, Dick felt the sudden cold reach his whole body. He hadn’t realized the warmth of Red Hood’s body till he lost it, hadn’t really believed it had actually been Red Hood’s hand touching him gently till he saw it pull away.

“I see you’re doing your homework.” He flipped through the files Dick had laid out and played a few seconds of the video on his laptop. “I’m flattered.”

 

Red Hood gave a devil-may-care smirk. Dick’s mouth was still lightly gaping and lungs tight with the breaths he took. He couldn’t remember how long he had held his breath before Red Hood had pulled away, but his chest hurt with the deep inhales he took. Aside from that, he was quite shocked that Red Hoof would do all the talking.

No. Talk about shocked, between the infamous A-class international criminal Red Hood showing up at his place, said criminal showing him his bare face, said criminal not killing him in the first instant, and not killing him _after_ he found out Officer Grayson was investigating him, he had no idea which one sounded less mental than the others.

If he survived tonight, Dick thought he might need to give himself a heart check, or get himself on a lifetime supply of Aspirin.

 

Damn it, he was an officer. The case he had been working on for months was standing there right in his apartment in front of his face. Think, Grayson!

“Why are you here?” Dick came closer and gripped his hand on the corner of the marble countertop.

“Can’t I just want to see your pretty face?”

Ha, it had been the second time he heard that line in the same day. Well, Bruce hadn’t put it like that, but still, same same to him.

“And what makes you think I won’t arrest you right now?” Keep talking, Grayson. He needed to keep Red Hood’s mind occupied, needed to distract him, needed to−

His hand fumbled on the empty holder tucked hidden underneath the marble countertop’s surface. His breath hitched again and when he looked up, Red Hood looked straight at him, spinning Dick’s Glock like a child toy on one hand, grinning like a damn shark.

“Too slow.”

 

This time, this time Dick thought he was actually gonna die.

 

He watched the smirk slowly turned into a nonthreatening half smile. Red Hood huffed and closed the open files before he slid off the chair, tucking Dick’s Glock into the back of his waistband like it was his own weapon now.

It was his weapon now.

“I’m not your enemy, Officer. Not tonight.”

“And you expect me to believe that?” Dick glared, watching the only thing he could use to defend himself now fall into a criminal’s hand.

 

Red Hood didn’t answer to that, his hand went up to motion him to stay quiet. Dick didn’t understand anything when the man turned his head aside like he was trying to pick up a sound in the silent night. Then suddenly, he picked his hood up and put it back on, finger tapping on something that turned the LED of his eyes on. He stayed like that for a couple of minutes, continuing to listen. That was when everything came up to Dick’s mind.

They were being watched.

 

 

“Get into the bedroom.”

Dick almost flinched when he heard the robotic voice, but he nodded and followed the order when Red Hood pulled out one of his massive guns. Dick ran inside and opened the drawers one by one, knocking everything aside till he found the escrima sticks lying inside.

It had been long since he used them, since he last practiced with them. Last time he put on a show with these sticks, he was still airheaded with the dream of being a GCPD police officer, was still running around in the Manor, demanding of Bruce’s attention and Alfred’s cookies.

Now they lay deep in the bottom drawer of his nightstand, slowly dusted through time.

 

He must have gotten lost for too long because when Red Hood touched his shoulder, he immediately jumped and grabbed his wrist, twisted it the way he knew would hurt. Red Hood was caught by surprise by it, but he didn’t make a sound.

He twisted his wrist back, arm full of strength Dick didn’t even believe was possible. He pulled his hand back, pulling Dick along with it, making him almost stumble into his chest.

“Get on the bed.” He whispered, hand slowly peeling Dick’s grip off him. He must have realized the confused look in Dick’s eyes when he said again. “Just do it.”

 

At moments like this, Dick could only nod and climb up on his bed. He tugged the blanket up and watched as Red Hood made his move to the window, standing just aside but his eyes were out, a position that all Police Academies taught their students how to spot a sniper without being spotted.

Dick stared at Red Hood’s cargo pants, stared at the guns and knives on his thigh’s straps, and wondered how he managed to do that, carry all those weapons so easily like they meant nothing, like they were parts of his body. Every single day Dick walked out the door with a pistol on his hip, it weighed more than its physical load, bringing him down and pinning every one of his steps with the responsibility and the capability of it.

 

“How many are there?” He whispered, needing to say something to break the silence between them. He felt tired of not knowing, tired of always being three steps behind what he was chasing.

“One on the rooftop, five downstairs.” 

Downstairs?

“My neighbor−”

“Is not your neighbor.”

He cut Dick off, eyes still out the window, gun ready in his hands. Dick took a second to swallow the fact and continued on.

“Did they follow you here?”

Red Hood turned to look at him, the light of his helmet’s eyes in the dark bedroom seemed cold and haunting, like the full moon of a forest’s night sky.

“No.” He startled Dick, he had stayed silent for too long for him to expect the answer to come. “They’re here for you.”

“What?” 

Red Hood just looked at him and stayed silent like he was trying to find a way to put it together. Dick didn’t care though, it was literally his life dangling off the cliff now, and he didn’t even know what he had done for it to lead to him into this situation.

Red Hood rubbed a hand in front of his hood, groaned out a frustrated sound that he had no right to make at all.

“What?” Dick repeated, running out of patience.

“Remember 2 weeks ago you saved my life?” He asked like Dick had actually gotten the magical ability to forget events like that. “I pissed off some really bad guys. And they didn’t seem to like the fact that you didn’t let me die.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Believe me, sugar. I don’t want to be either.”

 

Red Hood must have seen the way Dick glared at him irately, because he looked away instantly, going back to the view outside the window. The moonlight hit his helmet just right, making the metal shine a beautiful dim red. Dick wondered what people at the station would think if he told them he was in bed when the Red Hood showed up next to his window frame.

He shifted in the bed, tugging the blanket closer to his nose. Red Hood cocked his head to give him a look, face masked making Dick feel both uncomfortable and irritated at not being able to see his expression.

“Those guys have been following you since the day I left this place.” He was still looking out, and at this point, Dick thought it wasn’t for whatever was out there anymore, but to avoid his eyes.

“They tail you to the station, even got one as your neighbor. Learning your living habits, when you go in when you go out, are you single and living alone or have someone visiting frequently. Damn fuckers probably know what you dream about when you sleep. It only took this long for them to plan on killing you because you’re a cop.”

 

Red Hood said it like it was nothing, dirty booted foot resting nonchalantly on Dick’s ottoman as he bent down to pick out something on the opposite building. Dick tried to calm his breathing when he looked at the man, his stomach felt all wrong when the cargo pattern played tricks with his eyes, making him imagine the details of some kind of venomous snake.    

It took him longer than he had comfortably expected to find it odd in the way Red Hood had said it.

“How do you know all of this?”

 

Dick could see it, could feel that something had definitely changed in the air when Red Hood’s shoulders tensed at the sentence. It took long enough for him to panic, for him to repeat the “stupid, stupid, STUPID” inside his head. He should have held his tongue.

Dick clutched tight to the escrima sticks, feeling the burn when his heart started to pound like a druggie high on nicotine dips. He should have known sooner, his instincts should have picked up the signs, should have seen that this was all just a play, and the real enemy was right here in his room, holding machine guns and dynamite right on his watch. 

 

“Listen−”

 

Red Hood cut off, just as unexpectedly as he had started, and snapped his head toward the window, holding a gun that looked like a crossbreed of a pistol and a military shotgun, and fired. 

 

He fired.

He fired and the loud bang Dick had expected to hear didn’t even come, muted by the muffler stuck on the top of the barrel.

 

Dick took a few good seconds to lay there in the bed dumbfoundedly, brain stopped and heart seized. His mind was still scrambled when he found the courage to slowly sit up, eyes open wide staring at the man.

“Did you jus−”

“I did.”

Dick’s breath hitched.

“Is he…”

“He is.”

Red Hood said as he took off his helmet, shook his hair free and looked straight at him with piercing blue eyes. Dick felt himself caught in his gaze like a fish in the net.

“I said it already, didn’t I? I’m not your enemy.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Dick glared, still not very sure how to react correctly.

“What if it’s too embarrassing that I don’t want you to know?”

“What’s too embarrassing?”

“You…” Red Hood snapped halfheartedly and got tongue-tied, Dick didn’t know if the red face belonged to his anger or embarrassment, probably both. He heard him mumble something like ‘Dickface’.

“I watched you, okay?” Red Hood spat out, finally. “I watched you wake up and go off every day, I watched you play dumb head hero out on the streets, watched your shit living schedule and your shit eating habits. I don’t even want to know how you sleep 4 hours a day and still are able act like a 5 years old on a sugar high.”

For a while, Dick just stared at him, watching the faint redness spread to Red Hood’s ears like a drunken man.

“And that happened before or after you found out I was targeted?”

Red Hood avoided his eyes and stayed silent.

“Red?”

“Before, okay?!” Red Hood snapped again. “Jesus, keep bitching about it and I’ll let you die tonight.”

They both knew he wouldn’t do that.

“What about the others?”

“They’re coming. Stay in here.” He strapped the big gun back on his back, and pulled out two pistols, checked the bullets, and clicked off the safety.

“What? No, I’m coming with you.”

Red Hood turned and looked at Dick like he had spoken in another language.

“Are you stupid or something? Those men are mercenaries, and they have firearms.”

“And I’m a cop.”

“I don’t see why that reason alone is fucking enough to you.” Red Hood looked like he was just two seconds away from knocking Dick’s head out.

He inhaled and swore and turned back to look at Dick all over again before reaching for the knife on his thigh strap.

“Take this. And stay behind me!” He gave the knife to Dick and ordered, eyes serious.

“I don’t need it.” Dick frowned.

“Of fucking course you need it. Did those law courses suck all the living will out of you?”

“I don’t want it.” He pushed the knife back to Red Hood’s hand and held the escrima sticks up. “I have these.”

“What…” Red Hood took one solid second to look at them before shaking his head. “No, nope, no. You’re not fighting with that shit. Either you take the knife or a fucking gun, or stay here and wait till I get back. Do you hear me?”

“No, I have to go. I can’t let you kill all those men.”

“What!!?”

 

The sound of the front door slamming open startled both of them. Red Hood grunted angrily before pushing Dick down on the bed and pointing an accusing finger towards his face.

“You stay here.” He commanded and put his hood back on.

Before Dick could protest, he kicked the bedroom door open and closed it again. The next second was chaos, a blended mixture of colorful curses, painful screams, furniture smashing and gunshots fired. He heard the sound of bodies hitting the floor, of people choking on their own blood, and felt nauseous. Dick didn’t know where Red Hood had found the thought that locking him here inside his own bedroom while he went out there going on his killing spree with people that were here to kill Dick, would be such a thoughtful idea. He was, by all mean, scared, but no delicate flower was he. While the files Bruce had given him today didn’t do much help his investigation, those people out there might help.

Red Hood said something about pissing them off, or pissing their boss off, maybe he was trying to do business with them. Maybe other forces on the streets were working together to put off the big bad wolf with the red helmet. Maybe a gang war was happening right now under the BPD’s neglecting eyes.

Either way, Dick couldn’t ignore it. Those people out there, whether they were here to kill Dick or not, they weren’t just dummy bags for Red Hood to play shoot and run with anymore.

    

The moment he kicked the door open, Red Hood was in the middle of choking some guy to the point that his tongue poked out. His kitchen was a mess, the bowl of cereal had been smashed to pieces, left-over milk running down his wooden floor and wetting an unconscious guy’s head with it. Glass was shattered everywhere, and one of his chairs was now hanging on another unconscious guy’s neck, broken with splinters poking out everywhere. Luckily for Dick, his only neighbor now turned out to be not his neighbor anymore.

The whole room turned to look at him for one solid second. Dick didn’t know what had hit him to think that that Red Hood was making a facial expression.

 

Dick wished that second was a bit longer, just a bit longer so he wouldn’t have to regret running out at gun point with nothing but stupid sticks in his hands. A gun pointed at his head and in a mere tick so many more. Red Hood shouted something that didn’t quite reach his ears but Dick was already moving, sliding on the floor and back behind his sofa like a piece of soap on the bathroom floor.

It didn’t take long for someone to walk over to his place. This one didn’t carry a gun, and Dick kicked his ankles on instinct, jamming his head with the butt of his escrima. He got up and got a mere second to look at the situation. He charged up the escrima sticks, waited for them to shoot out some electricity and got up, yelling.

“Red, duck!”

 

The escrima came flying and hit the one on Red Hood’s back as he dodged it in time, electrocuting him and sending him down to the floor, shaking like a dying fish.

There was only one guy left, and to Dick’s surprise, it was his neighbor.

“Mark…”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Nothing personal.” He raised his gun and pointed at Dick.

“Don’t do this, Mark.” Dick didn’t know if he sounded right or not, but his lips started shaking as the barrel staring point blank towards him.

“You have no idea who you pis−”

 

Mark didn’t get to finish his words as a hole marched on his forehead. Blood splattered on Dick’s chest before Mark’s body went down with a loud thump, revealing Red Hood behind him, holding Dick’s Glock with the barrel still smoking.

Dick’s knees started trembling as he looked down at Mark’s body, at the blood pooling around his head.

“Why did you kill him?” His voice came out, could barely win a breath, shaking and breathless like he had been choked by invisible hands.

“Because he tried to kill you.”

 

When Dick looked at him, it wasn’t digital eyes that stared back at him anymore. Dick felt like he could sink into the blue of those eyes, so cold yet so tender. A gentle hand came up to touch his cheek, rubbing lightly.

He smiled, so charming and warm Dick didn’t know what to do. “You’re okay now.”

He took off his gloves and this time, this time his warm skin touched Dick’s, sending electricity down to the very core of his whole body. This was the first time they had been this close that Dick didn’t feel like dying. Sharp eyes and crooked brows, straight nose, perfect cheekbones, lightly tanned skin but fading, neat undercut hair that was short enough to never get out of place even with the helmet. In another scene, Dick might have mistaken him with a soldier, a very handsome one.  

Something about him, so tall and big and looking down at Dick had his heart beating in a whole new way.

 

“Do you wanna call the police?” He asked, so suddenly it startled Dick a bit.

“I’m the police.”

Red Hood huffed.

“Call your friends then.” He smiled again and ruffled Dick’s hair before walking into his bedroom, leaving him behind standing dumbfounded and not knowing what to think or do about that.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Dick had just gotten back from patrol when Amy was waiting for him by the door and motioned him to come to her desk. She gave him the look like she was ready to gut him and eat his organs. The paper coffee cup in her hands was pushed forward, abandoned.

“Are you going to talk about it?”

 

He knew what she was asking about, knew she was one of the only honest cops left, one he could totally trust. He looked around to check if anyone was eavesdropping on them, and turned back to look at her.

“Does it matter now?”

“This is no time for one of your stupid jokes, Grayson. You’re testing my patience.” She glared at him as her hands entwined and pushed beneath her chin. “You didn’t write the report, did you? It’s not even your pretty curvy handwriting, Wayne didn’t pay good money for you to paint chicken scratch like that. Is it Clay? Or Teller? Did the guys even give you the papers or did they just fill them in on their own?!”

She dumped the report down in front of his face, lips pulled into a thin line.

“I know how this department works, I know you know it too. And I know things must not have been easy for you since moving here, compared to the life you had in Gotham. You’re a good kid, I’ll give you that, but life in here isn’t a Hollywood movie, there are boundaries that we must not cross, not because we can’t, but because we shouldn’t. Do you understand?”

Dick stayed silent, watching her cup of coffee instead of looking into her eyes. Amy slumped back into her chair, she must be feeling frustrated dealing with him.

“It’s organized crime,” She said, finally. A sigh escaped her lips as her fingers lightly tapped on the wooden surface of her table. “Like in the old days, back in the 80’s and early 2000’s, when everybody knew each other, would be eating with the Mafia−same guys who remember your grandmother at Christmas and buy you ice cream. Truth be told? They kept the streets clean of scumbags. Burglars, rapists, pedophiles? Their bodies would end up ground and rotting on Highway 61.”

Her coffee cup lightly trembled under the rhythm of her fingers.

“Organized crime was a good thing, the best Bludhaven could hope for right now.” She continued. “At least they had a code, didn’t believe in beating up old ladies, carjackings, home invasions, molesting kids, shooting you in the head for your wallet. Or for no reason at all.”

She looked at Dick, and her eyes made Dick wonder that growing up under her motherhood must be real difficult.

“Last night five bodies were found in your apartment, three already died, one in a coma with only 10% chance of ever waking up, and this morning the Feds came and took the other away, all with 10 years in jail or criminal records. And what was on your report again?” She picked up the document in a halfhearted attempt and spoke in a mocking tone. “Self-defense violence?! I know you’re impressive with your… talents.” She decided. “I checked your profile myself when you first came here, people at the Academy really liked you, you finished your training in what? 19 weeks? Fastest time ever recorded since 2004. Had a bright spot to West Point Prep, but no, you chose this shithole instead.”

She stopped, waited for Dick to say something, but then gave up.

“I know you didn’t do all of this. Too violent for even a normal cop, not to mention you. The Grayson I’ve worked with in the last 13 months wouldn’t go for headshots or stab someone in the back with a kitchen knife 14 times just in defense.”

“I…”

“Oh, he can talk. I’m not done yet, Grayson.”

“Sorry.”

Amy stopped her tapping and forced Dick to look at her without even trying. She had her ways, a strong fine woman like her always had her ways. She took a minute to look away, made it look like she was too tired to see his tired face, eyes glancing around to see if anyone was around close enough to pick up what they were saying.

“Grayson,” She said.

“Yes?”

“Are you in trouble?”

 

He thought of Red Hood, of the way he had made his way inside his apartment like it was his home, thought of the way he had constantly taken off his hood to show Dick his face whenever he could, had smiled at him so wickedly, his hand had touched Dick so gently. He thought of how much Red Hood had surprised him when his face heated up and his ears had turned red when he was embarrassed.

He wondered whether all of that was trouble or not.

“I know with the investigation you are doing, the Red Hood case that seems to keep sucking you in, it’s dangerous.” Amy warned him, her eyes suddenly didn’t seem so scary anymore. “Organized crime is a good thing, but still, Red Hood is Mafia, and Mafia are criminal, don’t push them to their limits.”

If he told her he was almost murdered last night thanks to Red Hood, but was also saved last night thanks to Red Hood again, would she believe him?

Probably.

“I’m fine, Amy.” He smiled, hoping she would stop staring at the bags under his eyes. “I know when I should run or not.”

She was about to say something else, but decided against it. She nodded and waited till Dick was half way out of the door to call after him.

“Hey Grayson,”

“Yeah?”

“If you die, I don’t want Wayne knocking on my door asking questions, understood?”

That was her way of saying she didn’t want him dead.

“Understood.” 

 

 

It was late dawn when Dick slumped back into his apartment, too exhausted to even take off his shoes without leaning on the wall. His phone slipped out of his pocket and dropped down on the floor, Dick didn’t even care to pick it up and turned back to lock his door, he had already decided that today was more than enough. He was too tired to eat, to answer the door if someone came and asked for something.

He was ready to stay dead to the world for a good 5 hours before his shift came up. Tomorrow he needed to make a call to Gordon, or at least send him a thank you note for trying to help. He needed to get a new pistol too, now that his belonged to Red Hood.

 

It took him longer than necessary to pick up the phone, but in the end, he was too tired to even move a few muscles. He was more than ready to land face first on the couch when he saw him, sitting on the countertop.

“Jesus Christ!” He jumped, hand on his chest when Red Hood gave him a wicked grin.

“Told ya your security is shit.” He said, no helmet today, no armor either. Taking a complete look at him, Dick realized Red Hood was here in civilian clothes. Prada leather jacket, Levi’s jeans, premium denim, $80? Could be more. Dr. Martin boots, black, high neck, thick lugged sole, size 11, authentic no doubt, that one should be around $150.

Good thing about growing up with Bruce was that you had to have a good eye, good thing about growing up with Alfred was that you had to have good taste in everything.

He wore gloves, thick, brown, leather ones that were meant for bikers and not for showoffs. Dick had spotted a red Ducati Monster parked down on the sideway in front of his apartment building, had been curious about it since not a lot of people in town were bikers, and especially, not a lot of people in town could afford to spend that much money on a bike.

There were two plastic bags behind him, and suddenly Dick remembered the crime bosses’ heads that this man had cut off then stuffed into a duffle bag to send to the police.

Red Hood must have noticed he was staring at them too, he grinned and jumped off the island, unfolding the bags and showing Dick his back so unconcernedly.

“I brought Thai, also got half of a Guangdong roast duck in this bag, had to make a detour for it but damn, the thing smells good.” He pointed at the other bag. “You haven’t eaten anything today, just like usual. Couldn’t cook since I didn’t wanna scare you off that fast.”

He went around and opened the cabinets and started taking out dishes with two bowls.

“But, I also don’t want it to look like takeouts, what kind of gentleman would that make me if I do?” He slowly dumped all the food in the containers out on the dishes and placed the duck pieces carefully into a circle. When all done, he gave his finger a lick and whistled low.

“Et voila!”

He washed his hands and motioned Dick to come and sit. Dick, who was looking at him with all the blood drained out of his face, and was 2 steps away from running back to the station.

 

It only took him two seconds to grab the nearest object and fling it towards Red Hood. The guy caught it, as expected, Dick slammed into him, knocking him down to the floor with his body and fumbled behind his back for the handcuffs.

“Woah, easy tiger. Not right on the first date.” He still had guts to joke around, lips pulling into a wide grin and showing white teeth while Dick pressed on his back and pulled his wrists together.

It was annoying to admit this wasn’t the first time a criminal tried to flirt with him.

“Red Hood, you’re under arrest for drug trafficking, producing illegal weapons, committing arson, bribing legal forces, terrorism, assault with deadly weapons, mass murder, kidnapping and operating illegal gang activities. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” Dick read his rights and snapped the handcuffs closed.

“Ah, so you do remember your homework.”

“Let’s hope all that dirty money you make can afford you the best lawyer in town.”

“Ooh it sure can. But is that really how you’re gonna say thanks to your knight in shiny armor last night?” He smirked.

“Remain silent, please. You’re not as charming as you thi−Wah!”

Red Hood turned on his full force, knocking Dick on his back down to the floor. In a swift he was up and on Dick, handcuffs off his wrists now twirling on his index finger as he gave him a wolfish smirk.

“You haven’t seen me trying.” He leaned down and blew the words into Dick’s ear, raising baby hairs at the back of his neck.

Red Hood stood up after that, and Dick fumbled to get up, didn’t dare to let this man out of his sight for once. Red Hood seemed to take Dick’s anger and glaring as threatening as the frustration of a stray kitten. He walked behind the island and pulled up a black backpack, opened it, and took out two bottles of wine.

Dick didn’t even want to question why he carried wine in his backpack, but the idea kept flying around his head like an annoying bee.

“Which one is better with shrimp?” He asked.

Dick took a better look at the bottles, stayed silent for a minute, then asked.

“What kind of shrimp?”

Red Hood checked the dish in front of him. “Fried, spicy with a bit of sauce, got a hint of lime in them.”

“The 2000 Ladoucette Sancerre Blanc.”

“What about the other?”

“The La Stella Moscato D’asti? Good with smoked salmon, grilled pancetta shrimp, and garlic bread.” Before Dick could stop, Alfred’s lessons poured back out like an opened champagne.

Red Hood smiled at him, soft and sweet like Dick was his summer lover. He turned and dug around his cabinets again for two glasses, setting them down on the table.

“Let’s eat.”

Only then did he turn on the light in the kitchen, not the new bulb Dick had installed by himself when he first moved in, but the old one that came along with this place, dangling right on top of the dining table. The thing had looked so old and lonely Dick had to put a little DIY into it, had had to wrap old electric cord around a balloon, spray painted and coated it with walnut stain. It flickered a bit before shining decently, giving out an unhealthy orangey light that made the shrimp and the curry on the table look redder than usual.

Red Hood pulled a chair out for him, waiting.

 

“If you put anything in the food…” Dick voiced out when he was pushed down in the chair, eyeing the table suspiciously.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve tested this guy’s patience quite a lot tonight.” He poured the wine out in both glass and sat down. “Alright, let’s dig in.”

Dick watched Red Hood sipping his wine and eating a few pieces of duck, he would nudge his fork on his hand once in a while to encourage him to eat the food. The duck was good, crispy on the skin and the meat was quite tender and sweet, the curry was a little too spicy for him, but he was glad the shrimp were seasoned lighter, and it really went well with the wine.

Red Hood watched him all the time and kept smiling. It made Dick feel unsure about how he should react to that.

“So, why Bludhaven?” He asked suddenly, while pouring more wine into Dick’s glass.

“The Blud is small with little people, and it has nothing to do with him.”

Red Hood took in a big bite of chicken with cashew nuts, and Dick appreciated that he didn’t ask any further questions about “him”.

“So, why Bludhaven?” Dick asked, repeating the question.

“Small place, too many little fears.” He answered nonchalantly. “Best way to stop it is to become the most feared.”

“You want to stop the chaos in the Blud? Like the way you do in Gotham?!”

Red Hood looked at him and sipped his wine, eyeing him carefully before setting the glass down, tapping it lightly.

“Chaos and vice are… unavoidable.” He said. “They are like rats and cockroaches on the streets, no matter how hard you keep it clean they will still exist, lurking in the dark and waiting for an opportunity to breed and grow.”

He got up and took both his and Dick’s plates away, dumping them into the dishwasher and went back to his chair. He licked his slightly chapped lips, eyes on the wall for a few seconds before they were back on Dick.

“You can’t kill crime, it’s part of our nature, part of the society. That’s why I control it, all the rats and cockroaches on the streets live by my rules, listen to my words, and follow my orders, then they get to eat, and they get to live. I protect the streets, by controlling the devils on them.”

“That’s a twisted way to do it.”

“Twisted, indeed, but efficient.”  

Amy had told him about this, about organized crime and the way it helped the people living with it. So far Red Hood had gone way against everything Dick had spent strength and time on learning about him, and Dick didn’t know what to do about that. Didn’t know if saying he agreed would make him a traitor to everything he had worked for, didn’t know if he should even let this man keep getting this close.

It was like a Rubik’s cube, the more he tried to shape it back in order, the more it went wrong.

“Why…”

“Hum?”

“Why are you here, tonight?” Dick asked, not quite looking at him. “Why did you buy me dinner, why are you telling me all of this?”

He had to know, he just had to know. Red Hood could have killed him at anytime if he wanted, could have let him die yesterday, but he hadn’t. He out of all people should know Dick could never be swayed easily either, not by good food or even attractive smiles.

Red Hood glanced at him, testing. Testing whether he should give away the honest answer, Dick could see it, could read it in the way his eyes flickered on his face like an open book. He had always been good at reading people, and now the helmet was out of his way, he felt better at it than ever.

 

“Officer Grayson,”

His voice sounded strange this time, lower than normal, raspy like the words had to fight their way to the surface.

“Yes…” Dick gasped when Red Hood got up off his chair and into his personal space, face closer and closer by the second.

“I think I’m in trouble.” He whispered and it raised all the goosebumps on Dick’s skin.

Dick smelled him, like mint and gunpowder, cigarette tar and newly baked bread, homely and so mundane, he felt their sleeves brushing each other, felt his presence, pulling him in like gravity.

“Why?” His question was barely whispered, but it caught his ears and his fingers were up to gently catch Dick’s chin.

“I’m not drugged now.”

 

In the first few seconds, or maybe even minutes, Dick didn’t seem to mind the meaning of it, was too occupied by Red Hood’s mouth on his. To his surprise, his kiss wasn’t as rough as his appearance might seem, his lips mumbled on Dick’s, asking for permission that kept throwing him off.

Dick did flinch when his hand snaked up to catch the back of his neck, but he cooed him back to the safety zone by feathering kisses on the corner of his lips. He only moved further when Dick had settled back, his tongue got in and flickered playfully at his teeth. Dick grabbed onto his jacket out of instinct, needing something to hold on to when it felt like the world was spinning too fast.

It was slow and gentle, yet the ground beneath his feet became unsteady. If he didn’t hold tight to Red Hood, Dick was afraid he was gonna fall off his chair.

 

When Red Hood’s lips left his, and their foreheads met each other, he looked into Dick’s eyes in the way Dick never thought a man like him could. After tonight, Dick didn’t even know what kind of man he was anymore.

They breathed and just stayed silent to catch the air their lungs needed, the room was turning warmer as Red Hood’s hands were still on him. Dick remembered it then, about what the man had said, about him not being drugged anymore. Last time they had kissed, so quick and sudden, Red Hood had been high on pain medication, had had that rush of leftover adrenaline from the fight he had had before, had needed a distraction to drug Dick to sleep, to find an escape route because it was clear he wouldn’t let a wanted criminal get away just like that, or so Dick assumed.

He was fully conscious this time, no drugs in the system nor reason to run away. And he smiled at Dick, just like so many times he had tonight, so warmly and fondly it had his chest aching and melting.

 

Only when Red Hood moved to kiss his cheek, Dick realized that maybe he was in trouble too.  

 

  

 

**Author's Note:**

> meet me at [here](http://moonfox281.tumblr.com/), as you can see, I take prompt, and also do some stupid quotes sometimes as well. Do feel free to ask for anything, have a lovely day! ;)


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